Shattered
by supernaturalteenwolfdiaries
Summary: Ashlyn arrives in Beacon Hills with a secret weighing on her shoulders: recently, especially at night or when she gets angry, she blacks out. That, plus the new development of glowing eyes, has her searching for answers. But will they be what she expects?


The day began in a trashy motel that had probably been a rendezvous point for over a hundred cheating spouses. Ashlyn couldn't wait to get out of bed, because wherever it was they were headed, an actual house was better than the freaking Glen Capri. She was dressed and ready to leave before her father was even out of the shower, and started packing immediately, stuffing her clothes in her suitcase without bothering to fold them and hauling her things out to the family's Ford Escape. When she got back, her father was still packing, neatly organizing everything by color and humming as he did so.

"Come on, Dad, you don't need to organize your socks for a four-hour trip," she complained, sitting down on the bed. He laughed at her hurry.

"What's the rush, sweetheart? Can't wait to get to Beacon Hills?" he asked, folding the last pair of pants and shutting his suitcase. He started to carry it down to the parking lot, lugging it along behind him.

"Can't wait to check out of this place," she corrected, following him. She watched with a smile on her face as her father attempted to shove every belonging they had brought into the trunk, rearranging all of it and pushing and leaning against the hatch before eventually giving up and throwing a few things in the backseat. Ashlyn was about to climb into the car when she heard a faint sound coming from the direction of the nearby woods. It sounded almost like a howl.

"What's wrong?" Her dad asked, pausing with the door still open.

Ashlyn shook her head. "Nothing. It's just… I thought there weren't any wolves in California?" In fact she was positive; she had done a research paper on wolves in the eighth grade.

"There aren't. Why do you ask? Did you see one or something?"

She shrugged. _Must've been a coyote. Or maybe my imagination. _"Let's get going. We want to get there before dark, right?" She asked, changing the subject as she climbed into the SUV.

He nodded, starting the car. Ashlyn plugged in her headphones, leaning her head against the window and watching the landscape go by in flashes of green and brown as her music filled her ears.

For some reason her parents probably would never try to explain to her, Ashlyn hadn't seen the house before moving there, but now she wondered why her parents had bought it. It was simple, and quaint, a perfect example of classic Suburbia, white picket fence and all. But it was also absolutely nothing like the place they had been living before. Their old house had been a beautiful old-fashioned farmhouse, with almost too much room for the family of three, which was perfect, as it left a room free for her mother's painting and, later on, Ashlyn's dance.

"So," her dad said, gesturing to the house, "What do you think?"

The girl shrugged. "It's okay, I guess. I mean, if you like normality..."

He laughed. "Your mother and I decided maybe it's time for us to have a more stable home. Especially with you going to college soon..."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Ashlyn said, shrugging him off. "I don't suppose you're any less against letting me take a cross-country road trip with a few close friends with several quirky twists and turns across the way? Or perhaps letting me backpack across Europe with nothing but a few dollars in my pocket."

"Hmm, let me think about that for a second," her father said, tapping his chin and pretending to be considering something, "No. But maybe you can write a book about it."

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, but she couldn't help but smile. Her dad smiled back, ruffling her hair. "Get your stuff in the house, will you?"

She obliged pulling her things out of the back and hauling them up the stairs. She saw her mom, just as she had always seen her: bare feet, messy, faded jeans, white t-shirt splattered with paint, red hair pinned back but still wild, nails bitten down to the quick and polished with chipped, red nail polish. She looked up from where she was meticulously checking the door hinges for loose screws and smiled at her daughter.

"Ashlyn! Let me show you to your room, its right around this corner." She opened the door to a white room bare of all but the essentials: a bed, a dresser, a desk with a desk chair, and a full-length mirror. Ashlyn set her stuff down and fell onto the bed. Her mom still stood in the door, looking around.

"I know it's a bit boring right now, but you can put up some posters, maybe a few pictures of your friends..." She trailed off, noticing her daughter wasn't listening anyway. "Well, I've got to help your father bring the rest of his things up. I'll let you get situated."

She shut the door, leaving her daughter alone with her thoughts and a mostly empty room. As soon as she was gone, Ashlyn mustered up the strength to get up, and set to work. She pinned up a few posters of her favorite bands and TV shows, then some photographs she liked. Soon, the walls were all but plastered. Satisfied, Ashlyn pulled out her laptop, setting it on the desk. Suddenly, the room felt a lot more like home.

_Home,_ she thought, feeling a pang somewhere in her stomach. She hadn't expected to miss her friends this much; back in New York, Ashlyn hadn't ever really gotten close to many people, but her few friends had been kind and fun to be around, she supposed. She finished organizing her clothes in the dresser and the closet, and then looked back at the time. It was already 8, she realized. That meant it was 11 in New York. Figuring none of her friends would be up so late, she spent some time reading before falling asleep.

The next day, she woke up to a knock on the door. She groaned, sitting up and blinking sleep out of her eyes and yawning. The person knocked again, more urgently this time.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," she mumbled, waving a hand at the door as she stumbled over to it. She opened it a crack, squinting to see the person in front of her.

"You have to get ready now," her mom said shortly. It was obvious she had just woken up too. She was still wearing a robe and slippers.

Ashlyn nodded, giving her mom a thumbs up before shutting the door. She pulled on a pair of galaxy leggings and a tank top with the silhouette of a howling wolf printed on it, and then put on makeup. Feeling put-together, she headed downstairs, eating a bowl of cereal and saying a quick goodbye to her parents before getting in her car and driving to the high school.

She took a deep breath before pushing the doors open, practically strutting through the hallway and finding the locker number that had been hastily scribbled on the schedule her mother had given her a few days before driving off with the U-Haul filled with their furniture. She shoved the stuff she didn't need in the locker, and then glanced at her schedule once more as the bell rang.

Ashlyn sat at the back of class in History. The class filled up as the minute bell rang, and people took their seats. Ashlyn mostly kept to herself, looking busy by rummaging through her backpack and pretending to look for a pen.

"Hey, I'm Kira," the girl beside her ventured, probably hoping to make a new friend, "Are you new? I just moved here a few months ago, so I can totally relate if you're new..." As she talked, her pace quickened, her words starting to run together.

"I'm Ashlyn. And yeah, I'm new." Mostly, she just wanted to shut the girl up before she had a seizure or something.

"Cool. Where'd you move here from?" The girl's face lit up at Ashlyn's response, probably happy she said anything at all.

"New York."

"That's awesome! I bet you really know fashion and stuff."

Ashlyn was about to reply, to tell Kira no, not everyone in New York was fashionable and she hadn't even lived in the city itself, but then the bell rang and the teacher called for silence.

It felt like almost no time had passed at all by the time the bell rang again. In her haste to get out of the class, Ashlyn somehow managed to run into someone.

"Sorry," she said, "I wasn't paying attention."

"It's fine," the boy said, smiling. "I like your shirt."

She blushed, casually looking down to remind herself what shirt she was wearing. She looked back up a few seconds later, fully intending to thank him, but he had left already.

The day went by without a hitch-until lunch. It suddenly hit Ashlyn that she didn't know anyone here. She scanned the room, looking for a familiar (or at least somewhat friendly) face. Finally, she spotted the girl from History, sitting and laughing a few tables away from where she was standing. Taking a deep breath, Ashlyn wove through the crowds of students, smiling when she got there.

"Hey. Mind if I sit with you?"

Kira motioned to an open seat next to her and Ashlyn sat down, biting the inside of her cheek nervously and shifting in her seat.

It was the boy sitting in front of Kira who finally broke the silence. "Hi, I'm Scott," he said, grinning at Ashlyn.

She smiled back. "My name's Ashlyn." Something about Scott looked familiar, but she couldn't quite place it, or figure out why.

The other girl at the table didn't even bother to look up from staring blankly at her phone, as if she was waiting for a text that would never come. Scott glanced over at her, concern creasing his forehead. "That's Lydia," he said to Ashlyn, "She'll warm up to you eventually."

"You know I can hear you, Scott," Lydia said, looking up and smiling. "Don't listen to him. He's kind of a puppy when it comes to new girls. It's sort of his weakness."

Ashlyn blushed and Scott opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a tall, brown-haired boy stumbling over to the table. "We may have a bit of an iss-" he cut himself off and frowned, seeing Ashlyn, "Hey, um, who are you?"

"Oh, this is Ashlyn. She sits next to me in History," Kira said, gesturing to her. Ashlyn gave the boy a small wave. Kira leaned toward Ashlyn a bit. "That's Stiles. He's Scott's best friend," she whispered. Ashlyn nodded, glad Kira had filled her in.

"Cool," he said shortly, then turned to Scott, talking in a hushed voice. "You know tonight's a full moon, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Why is that a big deal?"

He stared at Scott like he'd just told him two plus two equaled ten. "It's the _second full moon this month_. Do you know what that means?"

"No, do you?"

Stiles opened his mouth, but then closed it again, as if he wasn't sure what to say. "No. The term 'once in a blue moon' exists for a reason, Scott. But still, maybe we should be more careful, just in case it ends up being special or something..."

Feeling like she was hearing something she wasn't supposed to, Ashlyn excused herself and got up, walking away, but that didn't stop her from hearing more of the conversation.

"Maybe we should call Derek? He probably knows what'll happen."

"We haven't heard anything from him in weeks, remember? I've tried calling him, he doesn't pick up, and with the Argents gone we don't have access to the bestiary, so that's out of the question."

She didn't hear any more after that. And she wasn't sure if she wanted to, either.

Ashlyn walked through the empty hallways, confused by what she had overheard. What on earth had they been talking about back there? What was so important about the full moon, even the blue moon?

_Maybe they're a pack of werewolves, _she joked, laughing inwardly. But it was hard to joke after hearing what Stiles had said.

_Maybe we should be more careful._

Careful? What came out on full moons that they needed to be so careful about?

She wasn't sure why, but thinking about the possibilities caused a shiver run down her spine.

She was still thinking about it when someone caught her arm. She turned around to see Scott smiling at her.

"Hey. Sorry about Stiles. He's been a little of bitter lately."

She shook her head. "No, it's fine. You can go continue your conversation about the moon or whatever, if you want."

He frowned at her. "You heard that?"

"Yeah, of course I did. You know, speaking at a slightly lower volume than usual is not the same as whispering," she replied sarcastically.

He laughed. "I'll tell Stiles to keep that in mind next time."

That was when the bell rang forcing them to go their separate ways. Ashlyn lingered behind a bit as she realized she had made friends already. She smiled, and then made her way to class.

Ashlyn kept her head down as she walked out of the school, her eyes practically glued to the floor. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk; in fact, she would have loved to see Scott or Kira or even Lydia at that point. It was something else. She couldn't explain why, but when she glanced at her reflection in a window pane, she had seen something strange.

She got in her car, checking the rearview mirror. She saw the same thing, but only for a second before she looked away again and pulled out of her parking space as quickly as she could. One thought kept running through her mind as she started to drive home: _Once I get home, I'll be okay._

The thought repeated over and over again, filling her thoughts.

"Once I get home, I'll be okay," she chanted under her breath, "Once I get home, I'll be okay. Once I get home, I'll be okay. OnceI gethome, I'llbe okay. OnceIgethome, I'llbeokay. Onceigethomeillbeokay." The words blurred together until they started to sound alien to her ears. She could hear her breathing quickening every second. Her heart pounded and she saw that her knuckles had turned white as she clung to the steering wheel like it was her tether to the Earth. She swallowed, realizing for the first time how dry her throat felt. _Once I get home, I'll be okay. Once I get home, I'll be okay._

The drive seemed to stretch on for an eternity like this, though Ashlyn was well over the speed limit. She finally spotted her house at the end of the street. She stopped in the driveway, pushing the car door open and getting out. She started to walk toward the front door, already fumbling with her keys.

"Ashlyn?"

She turned to see Lydia standing across the street, a confused frown on her face. Ashlyn blinked shocked to see her. "Hey, Lydia."

"Are you all right?" The redhead asked, slowly making her way closer, "You seem a bit flustered."

Heat rushed to Ashlyn's cheeks. "I'm fine. I just kind of want to get inside. I've got a ton of homework to do."

"Oh. Okay." Ashlyn could tell she knew something was going on, but she didn't care; she just wanted to get away from everyone at that point.

Keeping her head down once again, Ashlyn walked toward the stairs that lead up to her front porch. This proved to be difficult, as she hadn't had stairs that led to her porch before, and she stumbled a few times before finally getting to the front door. She fumbled with her keys, trying to remember which one fit the front door. Her hands shook so much that she dropped them twice before finally being able to unlock the door and get inside.

She ran up the stairs, passing her mother.

"Would you like a snack or something to drink, sweetheart?" Her mother called after her, but Ashlyn was already racing up the stairs and into her room.

She knew she had to give an answer or her mom would come up the stairs and ask her in person, so she called back, "No, mom. I just want to get started on my homework, okay?" Her mom would be confused by her sudden interest in school and homework, but she had bigger problems to deal with.

Ashlyn fell onto the bed, not wanting to look in the mirror again for fear of seeing that nothing had changed since she got in the car. She wondered what was going on. Was she going insane? Was it just a trick of the light? Had she been bitten by a radioactive spider or something as she slept?

She pondered the thought for a while, every scenario swirling through her head. She couldn't tell anyone, she knew; they would throw her in an asylum or dissect her or put her in a zoo or the circus or something. Isn't that what they did to everyone who was...Different?

Finally, she mustered up the courage to look in the mirror. She saw her blonde hair and clothes were disheveled, and her face was ashen. But her eyes were their normal dark brown color.

Maybe she had just imagined it, like the howling wolf she had heard as she was getting in the car, or the shadows she used to see lurking at the edge of the playground when she was young.

She told herself over and over that she had probably just imagined it.

But deep down, she knew one other thing for sure:

When she had looked in the mirror, her eyes had been glowing.

They had been glowing bright blue.


End file.
